


Community Service

by Lycanthrope



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Drowning, Explosions, Gore, Hat Films;, Humor, Swearing, Viscera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycanthrope/pseuds/Lycanthrope
Summary: "Clean up on isle three"





	

"Look at it lads." Trott said grinning from ear to ear surveying the scene around them. There were testificates, or at least pieces of them, everywhere. "This one is going to be a real challenge."

"Yeah." Smith commended. "It looks like someone is having a way more fun day than we are."

"Don’t be like that." Trott said. "We're only here because you keep blowing up everyone's base."

"So you're saying that my curiosity means that I have to clean up whatever mess Yoglabs has made for themselves?" Smith dead panned. "So me trying to broaden my understanding is punished with... this. What does that say about our state of education?"  
"Smith." Ross said slowly. "We knew exactly what that nuke would do the fuck buddies' base."

"I was bored!" Smith shouts. "And they had nukes too. If anything what I did was no worse than disarmament."

"So now we have to clean this." Trott added picking up a bucket with both hands and holding it out for Smith to take, even going as far as to shake it from side to side and slosh around the contents. "The sooner we start, the sooner we're done."

Smith blinked slowly and without looking at the offering, lifted his arm over in an overhead swing, clipping the rim of the bucket. Knocking it out of Trott's hands and spilling it all over both of them. "Fuck you Trott." He said and walked off. Irritated with the whole situation.

 

\---

"Catch." Smith said running past Ross and throwing something into the air. He kept running until he was safely tucked away behind a corner and poked only his eyes and nose back around the corner. His eyes crinkling with his own mirth.

Ross can't help but act on instinct, dropping his broom with a clatter and reached out, to catch the object Smith had thrown into the air. At first he thought it might be a sparkler. It was certainly pretty, as the effects of the light stayed in his vision even as the bright sparks moved in the air. Making interesting patterns in his vision. It was the main reason that it took him a few seconds to notice the red cylinder that he was gripping the item by.

"Oh Sh-" The rest of his short sentence was cut off by the sounds of the dynamite exploding in this hands, throwing Ross in every direction around the room. Insides, outsides. It didn't matter. All were strewn all over the floor, the ceiling, the walls.

As the ringing died down and the gore settled, the sound of Smith's maniacal laughter replaced it. He'd slid down the wall, holding his stomach wiping his eyes with his slimy, elbow high gloves.

"That wasn't funny Smith." Ross said, coming around another corner. Shiny new body looking to be around ten years younger than the last one.

"Yes..." Smith tried to speak. His own giggles stopping his breath and making it impossible.

"I'm everywhere now!" Ross said opening his arms around him to emphasize the point.

Smith's giggles hit him so hard, listening to Ross complain he topples over onto his side.

 

\------

 

Ross found himself whistling. The collection of bullet casing, intestines and glass fragments almost soothing and therapeutic, especially in the silence of his section of the lab. Luling him into the strange sensation of relaxation. He's almost disheartened when he finds he has filled his hazardous waste bin and needs to go in search of a new one.

Still the whistling kept his spirits up as he lifted the box off the floor and headed off to the main entrance to incinerate it. He cut his nameless tune short though when he was certain he heard the sound of Smith shouting in the distance. "Tell me Trott! Does it look like I need another fucking, bucket!"

Ross rounded the corner a moment later and the sight made him stop dead. Smith had somehow forced Trott down onto his hands and knees. A hand fisted in his hair and looked to have been leaning down his entire body weight onto the smaller man, as Trott flailed and clawed around the small bucket his face had been submerged in, up to the neck. His screaming muffled and popping to the surface of the water, in bubbles.

Smith spotted Ross a moment later. The weight lessening from the back of Trotts head enough for the other man to break the surface and begin coughing up the grungy, black water he had been in the process of swallowing just a moment before. Both he and Smith turned their eyes up to look at Ross. Remaining perfectly still apart from their heavy breathing.

Ross felt as though he had walked in on something he probably shouldn’t have and began to step backwards, away from the scene taking his bin back with him. Not daring to look away from the two until he was safely tucked away around the corner. The sound of his wet boots, and the body parts squelching around in his box disappearing at a steady quicker pace.

"You know." Trott said from the floor a few moment later. "This water is beginning to taste distinctly like soot."

"Oh." Smith said calmly. "Well then you're probably right. I do need another one."

 

\----

 

"Trott!" Smith's voice filtered through the metal hallway. Echoing around the hall.

Trott narrowed his eyes but continued to mop the floor, careful to step backwards so he didn't get any of the viscera on the floor he had just cleaned. 

"Trott!" Smith called again when he didn't get a response.

All Trott did was sigh heavily. Sure his friend would eventually get bored and get back to work. He dropped his mop down into the bucket and sloshed around the dirtied water.

"Trott." Smith says once more down the hallway. "Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott." He sang down from wherever in the facility he was. His words gathering in speed until Trotts name seemed to meld together into one long word.

"What?" Trott eventually screamed back towards the other man. Cursing his own weakness.

Trott could actually hear the other man chuckle from the other room. The sound bouncing off the metal walls and taunting Trott all the more. "Come here!" Smith called to him simply.

"Little busy at the moment!" Trott called back, leaning on his mop to admire his handy work. He could eat off this floor. He wouldn't, not without a substantial dare but he could. It was a little disheartening to look down at his own boots, slick with gore and ralise he hadn't left himself anywhere to walk but the clean floor.

"No really mate." Smith said again, the snicker creeping up into the echo of his voice. "Come here."

"Smith!" Trott shouted back turning on the spot and in the process his foot connects with the side of the metal bucket. It slides a couple of inches across the wet floor but it's his panicked reaction as he reaches down to catch it, clipping the rim as his foot slips out from under him. That's what actually tipped the bucket over. Spilling the water as well as several intestine pieces, all over the floor, and along Trotts front. "Fuck." He whispered dejectedly, getting to his feet and kicking the spilled bucket along the floor. Spraying more gore all over the place but it hit the wall with a very satisfying crash. "Fine!" He called back to Smith. Heading down the metal hall, his boots squelching and tracking grime all over the place, but he just couldn't quite bring himself to care in that moment.

"What is it?" He asked turning a corner. His jaw dropped a moment later when he saw exactly what Smith wanted to show him.

Smith stated proudly. His back to Trott and his hands on his hips, a deep sense of satisfaction exuding from his body. What Smith had in fact made might have been a crime against nature."I've made a masterpiece." 

He'd found a whole body, considering whatever had happened in this facility had meant they had to identify most of the deceased by their access flash drives, which had been strewn all around. That was quite an achievement in itself. This body however has been laid out on top of two crates. A pair of dismembered legs bent at the knees had been placed over the dosys head. Sitting precariously where the dead man's ears might be, inside the hazmat suit he still wore. Further down the corpse a dismembered head was held either by gravity, or more likely by the weight of the dead man's hand, over his crotch. The other hand had not been left empty. In a way that was both sick and sweet Smith had laced the fingers it with another hand he had found, severed at the elbow.

"I call it." Smith said dramatically. "Orgy on a Budget."

Trott's eyes were wide and his voice was naught but a squeak when he asked."Why?"

"Because." Smith said sighing that he had to spell it out. "How else are you going to experience all of that with only one person?"

Trott blinked. Hard. Trying to take the image for what it was. Not what it was made of. He tilted his head and began to analyze it with an artist’s eye. "Heh." He finally grunted, "Yeah that’s kinda funny." He admitted with a short nod. "Now can we incinerate the bodies?"

Smith sighed exasperated. "Fine." He said setting a welding mask on his head and flicking it down over his face. Then leveled the plasma welder against his hip and aims in the direction of his masterpiece.

 

\-------

 

"We did it." Trott said triumphantly.

Every corpse had been burned. Every questionable substance had been cleaned up, even the strange purple liquid that seemed to burn anything wooden it touched. Every bullet hole had been placed or burned closed and every, single coffee cup had been disposed of. The rooms were so clean they practically sparkled. They had even gone so far as to disinfect their boots so they could survey their handy work without messing it up again.

"Yeah, great. Whatever." Smith said excitedly. "Look what I found boys." He said with a grin pulling his hand from around his back. Nestled in his palm was a cube. It looked innocent enough. An unremarkable shade of grey with red diamonds on all six sides. It was only the yellow and black warning markers on each edge that gave it away.

"Is that..." Trott began to ask but almost didn't want to finish his question. Afraid of the answer. 

"Yep." Smith said throwing the cube into the hair and catching it again in one hand. Making Trott flinch slightly.

Ross was shaking his head. "It can't be."

"It can." Smith assured him seriously. Even with his unrelenting smile.

"Smith." Trott said, his beady eye on the cube as it launches up into the air again. "Where the hell did you manage to find a red matter bomb?"

"Does it matter?" Smith asked him seriously. "Come on. We all know it's only a matter of time before one of us blows something up again." He paused, partially for dramatic effect and partially to wait for both of his friend to subtly nod in agreement. "Well I say, we might as well have some fun with it."

Ross and Trott looked towards each other, both of their lips quirking in barely contained smiles. They didn't need words. They hardly even needed the look. Their understanding of their own nature enough.  
Then they returned their gaze to Smith. It was with conspirators grins of their own.

Trott reached out to pluck the small cube from Smith's hands looking it over and with each passing second his smile broadens until it is filled with teeth, manic in it's own way. "I know exactly where we should set this off."


End file.
